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I dreamed last night that I was attending a special school….for mutant superheroes. An announcement was made that they had found the “Viper” who would be arriving soon. Then, they brought in a panther, who was just a little bit pissed off because someone tried to trap it. Of course, I had to step outside because I thought something was amiss and needed to investigate. I believed this panther was indeed a ruse, sent in by the bad guys to infiltrate our school and wipe us out.
They had the panther taken to a special location. At that time, it was time to go home. The only problem was, I could not remember how to get “home” since I had just arrived to this town. So, myself and another gal are walking, and walking, and walking. We run across a young fella who is having a hard time maintaining his composure, and is fighting an urge to turn into something bad. We told him to go to his happy place. I then found a young man with wings, who had been accompanied by his two sisters, each one also being some type of bird. They had been hit by a car.
We continue on because I am trying to remember where I live. I have a key, and just start looking down streets. We came across some apartments and a boarding house. The lady wants to know if I need a room til the rain lets up. My plan is to just try my key in all the apartment doors until I find the right one. If unsuccessful, I will go rent a room.
At that point, I realize the other gal somehow has my id, and I need to get it back.

It’s finally dawning on me….this is the year I turn 60. Yes….60. It wasn’t that long ago (or so it seems) that I couldn’t have imagined reaching the age of 20 because it seemed like a lifetime away. I remember when my grandparents were 60. I remember when my parents were 60. My friends and I have often had the “We can’t believe we’ll be 60” discussion. It’s a little weird, because on one hand, while 60 may not sound so old…on the other hand, it’s like, uggh 60. So, here are some ponderings on turning 60.

I should have listened to my mother more and not easily dismissed certain things she would tell me about getting older. She was just trying to prepare me for becoming older, and I brushed it all off. For instance: As a woman becomes older, she will get whiskers. True. Keep your tweezers handy at all times. As a woman becomes older, she won’t need to shave her legs as often. True. You might think this is because the leg hair quits growing, but I have found that is not the case. It turns grey…just like the hair on top of your head. Oh, let’s touch on the grey hair. Sure, you might think it won’t happen, or you might just decide to color your hair. Well….at some point, you look in the mirror and realize you are going to look like a skunk if you keep coloring, as fast as that grey is coming in. Do yourselves a favor, and just let it turn grey…it’s a lot cheaper that way. Which leads me to more thoughts on the hair.

Mother said as a woman gets older, she should keep her hair shorter. It will make her look younger. True…the weight of the long hair pulls your wrinkles down. Oh, and don’t think wrinkles won’t happen…I already have my mother’s neck. But I also have her shoulders, which still look pretty young. Which leads me to skin.

Mother always told us girls to never use soap on our face. She said soap would dry up our skin and make it look older faster. Well, that was one thing we took to heart, and all of us girls have really nice skin. (Sometimes, it pays off to listen to your mother.)

Weight….yes, weight gain happens. The metabolism changes in the body. You have to work harder to keep your weight down…as it just seems to come out of nowhere. Good gravy, this is the biggest I’ve ever been, with the exception of being 40 weeks pregnant carrying a 10 lb baby. Mother would always do what she called hip rolls at night…every night she would do these hip rolls before she went to bed…they kept her arse from getting wide she said. Guess what I’m going to start doing? Yup…should have listened to mother.

Aches and pains…yup…got those. My knees sometimes get stuck. My hips go out more than I do.

Teeth…I still have most of my teeth. My folks had dentures for as long as I can remember, and while they did some pretty cool stuff with those false teeth, I would really prefer to keep mine. I have a terrible dental phobia….I’d rather give birth to triplets with no medication. Which reminds me of the fact that there’s a reason we have children when we are younger. My almost 60 year old body could not take that…nor would I have the patience or the energy to be chasing around tiny tots all day long at this age. I’d be like a zombie….although…I find zombies very cool. Hmmmm.

But on a more serious note….there is one thing that just hangs in the back of my mind. I’m really healthy….aside from glaucoma and a thyroid problem, a numb hand and the occasional aches and pains that “are part of this age” (as my doctor says). But…there’s one thing. I’m turning 60….my mother was 60 once. She died at 67. I wish she were still around to tell me more stuff about when a woman gets older. Maybe I’d not dismiss it as easily.

The year of turning 60. I hope we all deal with it gracefully and well. Because not so long ago…we couldn’t imagine being this age.

Another year has come and gone, and yet again, I am writing about Trudy Appleby.

Trudy Appleby was my neighbor girl. She was bright, energetic, full of love, light, hope and happiness. She was a regular in our house, and any given day you could find her skipping down the road to come visit. The last time we saw Trudy was the evening of August 20th, 1996. As she left, she said she would call my daughter the next morning and would see us all the next day. That never happened.

Trudy Appleby went missing the morning of August 21st, 1996. A neighbor saw her leaving the driveway in a grey car being driven by a white male, perhaps in his 20’s, with long, dark, wavy hair and wearing a ball cap. She never returned home.

Missing flyers were printed and passed out everywhere anyone could think of. Billboards of her missing flyer were put up along roads and highways. We hoped she would be found within hours, then the hours turned to days, the days turned to weeks, the weeks turned to months, the months turned to years, and the years turned to decades. It has been over 2 decades since Trudy disappeared without a trace…not a trace. We all know little girls don’t go *poof* into thin air.

We are going on 22 years now that Trudy has been missing. 22 years of loved ones not knowing where she is, or who she was with. 22 years of searching for her, hoping she would come home, hoping she was alive and well, but thinking it was/is a good possibility that she may not be alive. We all simply do not know what happened to her and where she is. The not knowing…that’s awful.

Last year, the Moline Police Department released a name of a “person of interest” in the case. It seems a witness finally came forward and stated she was seen later the morning of her disappearance in a car with a William “Ed” Smith in a neighborhood on Campbell’s Island. Unfortunately, that witness did not have any other information to offer. It took the witness 21 years to speak up about that. Why wait so long?

Someone out there knows something. Maybe more than one person knows. Whoever was responsible for her disappearance had to have told someone what happened to her, and what was done with her. Trudy was 11 years old. She was someone’s daughter, granddaughter, niece, sister, cousin, friend. She was a bright light in the darkness. Her innocence was stolen, and our bright light has been snuffed out for the last 22 years. Someone knows something, and you know who you are. Yet you choose to harbor this terrible secret…and for what? Who are you trying to protect? It’s time to tell what you know…We want to bring our girl home. Do the right thing for once in your life. What if this were one of your loved ones? Don’t think it can’t happen to one of your loved ones…it can. It happened to one of mine. It’s time to bring Trudy Appleby home. Little girls don’t go *poof* into thin air.

I’m in a huge house, and getting ready to rent it out to a couple with some older boys. The house used to have a small church upstairs.

While showing the family the house, one of the walls breaks apart, (due to the boys rough housing), and underneath the drywall/concrete is a beautifully ornate wall. We can see upstairs through the top of the wall, and see several people in robes and gowns. They are mostly older men with long hair and beards, but also a few women. These people are in a room filled with huge shelves. To the left of that room is a small room with an ornate chair and a table, and to the left of that room is a small chapel. The older man with the long grey hair and beard comes down and asks for a pen. Then, he goes back up to the upper level.

Also, I find that one of the doors is broken now, because the man of the family shoved his wife into the door.

I met Carol Burnett and told her about my story, and she thought it would make a great skit if we added the word adept throughout. Afterwards, we walked around outside and I had to lock my purse and phone in the trunk of Carol’s car because someone was out stealing those at that moment. Carol was in a purple jumpsuit.

May 25th was National Missing Children’s Day. Trudy Appleby was an 11 year old girl that disappeared August 21st, 1996 from her home in Moline, Illinois. She was last seen leaving her driveway that morning in a grey/silver older model car with an unknown male. Her home was near 41st St and 21st Ave in Moline. She has never been seen or heard from since. Each year, a vigil is held at her family’s church in hopes of keeping her story out there, so that someone will come forward.

Last year, a witness came forward and placed Trudy with William “Ed” Smith, who drove a similar vehicle. They were seen near his residence on Campbell’s Island in East Moline that same morning. Trudy knew this man and his family, and it is suspected she was planning on going swimming with them that day. She never returned, and her whereabouts is unknown after the witness saw her in the vehicle. There are no further reported sightings. She simply “vanished”. William “Ed” Smith died on December 23rd, 2014.

It is suspected that Trudy Appleby is no longer alive and did not survive that fateful morning. It is believed that someone knows exactly where we can find her.

Trudy Appleby was my neighbor girl and very much like one of my own children.

Anyone with any information regarding this case is encouraged to contact their local authorities, or the Moline Police Department in Moline, IL. Make the call….help us bring Trudy home….so we can lay her to rest.

My daughter (who is little in my dream) and I are getting ready to my grandpa’s house in LaGrange Park IL to go to a talent show. But first, she has to take a nap, and she has to have a special blanket. After trying 3 or 4 blankets, we finally find the special one. After her nap, we leave in a big red suv.

We get to this school or church auditorium where the talent show/play is being held. A family is surprising their neighbor lady with a free ticket, and they are going to sing to her. That lady is sitting right behind me. It’s a big production, with dancing and singing, and she was really surprised. Then, I noticed something strange. The lady had fallen asleep and landed right smack up against my shoulders. I was kind of stuck.

It took a while to wake her up, but when we finally did, after making sure she was ok, I high tailed it out of there, because we were now late. (I had been stuck under the sleeping neighbor for over 30 minutes.) My daughter is in the car, and we almost back into a car (this suv we are in is HUGE). As we are driving down the street, I think to myself, if we can just get straight through to Ogden Ave, we’ll be good to go.

In the meantime, my daughter is wondering who’s little white lacy jacket she’s wearing, because there are what appear to be initials on the inside of the sleeve. My response was that it likely used to belong to my aunt.

As we are driving across to Ogden Ave, the road changes, turning more into an alley type of roadway, and then just a dirt road. We pass some railroad tracks, and I decide to stop and ask for directions. I ask this fellow by the tracks, who is either changing a tire, or doing something to the boat or camper hooked to his vehicle, “Hey, what happened to this street…it used to go through to Ogden Ave.”

Well, his response was less than direct. I heard about his job out in Colorado, and how he lived in Davenport for a while, and that he knows where Spruce Hills Drive is, (which is in Bettendorf, Ia.), but couldn’t recall how to get to Ogden Ave. So, I decided to just head the other direction on a main road that looked like it went straight through.

We ended up back at my Grandpas, with a favorite blanket, taking a nap.